Right. So, I know that I have told you all before how awesome Miss Marauder is as a beta, but she really outdid herself with this chapter. I was blocked - Like stuck behind a brick wall level blocked- and could not find a way to get anywhere near the emotional resonance this sequence needed. So, I shipped her (an embarrassingly poor) draft to review, and she came back with a ton of insights and suggestions that made it so much easier for me to see what I needed to do. The chapter still kicked my ass in a big way, but because of MM, I can finally post something that is not completely cringe-worthy. So thanks MM!

And thank all of you who review and PM and favourite and follow, or just lurk in the proverbial weeds and read. I love sharing this with you, and I appreciate very much that you want to share it too.

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~o0o~

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Chapter 14 – The Ties That Just Keep Tugging

…Now

Effy is pulled from her thoughts by the buzz of her phone signaling an in-coming text. The last few sips of the vodka that she and Naomi have been sharing rest in the bottle leaning against the inside of her thigh. She shifts to place the bottle on the floor and to dig her mobile out of her bra. One well plucked eyebrow lifts as she sees the sender ID: Emily. She slides her finger across the screen, curious to see why Emily is texting her of all people after the confrontation they just had.

. She said you would give me her number if I asked.

Well, well. That is interesting. Effy grins at the thought that Katie must have continued the "discussion" with Emily after Effy left. "Go, Katie! Good on you" is the first thought that strikes Effy as she considers the text. She looks over at Naomi who has dozed off curled up on the other end of the sofa, her hair drifting softly across her face. Not one to make things too easy, Effy carefully considers her response before hitting send.

. So are you asking?

There is a short pause before her mobile buzzes again – short enough to make it clear that Emily was waiting by her phone and answered right away.

. Yes

A small, but very satisfied smile crosses Effy's face. Fucking finally.

. Good.

Effy adds in Naomi's number before sending her reply. She thinks about adding more, something like don't hurt her, but decides that at this stage less is more and that point is probably pretty obvious. She has to admit, it's a good feeling to know that her efforts have moved her two friends at least this little bit closer. It's satisfying in a way that she never would have understood even a few years ago. As she considers what she knows, Effy decides that she has hope that the two will get their acts together, although knowing them both, and the fears and doubts that drive them, she can't help but also be worried that they won't.

It's only a matter of a few seconds before Naomi's phone buzzes its way across the coffee table. Effy takes that as her cue to leave, not wanting to get caught up in whatever comes next between her two friends. She gathers her belongings and then leans over to wake Naomi.

"I'm going to head out, Nai. By the way, your phone was buzzing. You might want to have a look at it."

She looks down at Naomi affectionately, mentally crossing her fingers that she and Emily won't find a way to fuck this up again, and then she's on her way, looking forward to an evening with Katie to debrief. Tomorrow is going be nerve-wracking as hell for them all, but Effy knows that Katie will go mad waiting for word now that Emily has decided to "woman up" and deal with Naomi head on. Effy has already decided to pick up take-out and a decent bottle of wine for her room-mate before she utters a final, "'Night, Nai" to her sleepy friend and slips out of the flat.

Naomi groggily wishes Effy "good-bye", before she sits up, rubbing her eyes in an effort to wake up. She picks up her phone and puzzles at the unknown number. The mystery is short-lived, though, as she reads further

. It's Emily. Effy gave me your number. Will you meet me?

Naomi gasps as she comes very quickly fully awake, her surprise pulling her to her feet. She paces, a step this way, then immediately a turn and step back, frazzled, making almost a circle as she struggles to get a hold on herself and sort through her reactions. She's both ecstatic and full of dread, uncertain what this will mean. But she manages to pull herself together enough to realize, firstly, that this is what she has been asking for all along, and secondly, that she needs to give some kind of an answer. She stares hard at the little device in her hand before making her decision and replying.

. Yes. When?

Emily almost screams when her phone beeps. She was half afraid that Naomi would ignore her, and has been on tenterhooks waiting for the reply. She reads the message and can feel literally every cell in her body tense with the realization that she's going to have to do this. For real. She's going to have to face Naomi. Before she can think too much about what that actually means and freak herself out even more, she texts back.

Tomorrow. I have to work tonight, so can we meet early? Say 8 am?

Emily forces herself to sit still as she waits, but she can't keep her leg from bouncing up and down at a ridiculous pace. She is practically vibrating with anxiety about doing this, but she's determined to follow through. She knows that she needs to do this for Naomi, but sweet Christ it's terrifying to contemplate. She stares at her phone as though she can make it respond just by wishing for it. Finally, it beeps again and she rushes to open the new text with her heart pounding in her throat.

. I can manage that. Where?

Fuck. Where? Where should they go? They need to be able to talk, but Emily knows that she won't be able to handle doing this in any kind of confined space. She starts to feel claustrophobic just thinking about that. One of things she has trouble with now - a little side dish that tagged along with the depression - is confined spaces and crowds, especially when she is upset or anxious. And she knows damn well she is likely going to be both tomorrow. She learned the hard way not to tempt that. When it hits her it feels like the walls are closing in on her. It feels like she can't breathe and she panics. The first time it happened she had just arrived in Ireland and she actually knocked someone down in her rush to get back into the open air. Then it hits her – the open air. They may have already inadvertently found the perfect place.

. There's a bridge over the river in the park were you saw me the other day. Do you know which one I mean?

Emily sits hunched over in her seat with her mobile clenched in her hand as she types in the message. Across town Naomi unknowingly mirrors her exact posture, feeling a very similar jumble of excitement and trepidation about the conversation. When the new text from Emily arrives, Naomi pauses over the message, wondering at the suggestion for a public meeting place. It seems odd to her, but then again the whole bloody situation is odd. She figures if it is too weird, they can always move somewhere else, and so she agrees.

. I know the one. I'll see you there tomorrow morning at 8.

A moment later her phone buzzes once more. The reply is brief.

. Thank you.

Naomi spends a long while reading and re-reading the exchange, trying to glean any hidden clues that might be buried in it. Eventually, she realizes that she's getting nowhere, so she adds Emily's number to her contacts, hesitating only briefly before listing it under her ex's full name. It feels so strange to do that, to create this tangible connection to Emily once again. Somehow that simple act feels hugely significant and she can't quite explain why, but it unsettles her.

Naomi puts down the phone and tries to shake off her malaise. She decides to cobble together a small supper from the leftovers in the fridge. She knows that she should eat something, especially after the amount of vodka that she and Effy managed to put away during the afternoon. So, she plates the strange mix of veggie pizza, pad thai, and moo goo guy pan that is left in her fridge, and then tosses it in the microwave to warm. She doesn't actually taste any of it as she eats, too preoccupied by the possibilities of what the morning might bring.

When her simple meal is finished, Naomi decides to take a hot bath to try to settle her nerves. It doesn't work though, and a few hours later she's still wide awake and tossing and turning in her bed. The emotional boomeranging is giving her whiplash as she flips between the ever-present anger she feels towards Emily, anxiousness about the morning, and something that isn't quite happiness, but is moving in that direction whenever she thinks about actually spending time face to face with Emily. She realizes that the mere thought of actually talking with Emily again, however awkward and painful that might be, is something that she is very much looking forward to. It is strange to feel such conflicting emotions all at once; strange and incredibly disconcerting.

Frustrated to the point where it is obvious she won't be able to sleep any time soon, she gets out of bed and pulls on black plaid sleep shorts and a white vest top to cover her nakedness, and then ambles to sitting room. She grabs the checkered blue and white throw from off the recliner and tucks it around her shoulders to stave off the cool night air. She contemplates grabbing the bottle of Jack, her usual sleep aid, but knows that this is not a night to be drinking, not when she needs to be clear and cool-headed and together the next morning when she speaks to Emily. Instead, she settles onto the sofa again, and switches on the iPod radio. She can't help herself. She needs to hear Emily's voice.

For the longest while, there is just song after song that plays. The music is good, it's fine. But the endless run of songs without Emily to introduce them is strange, and not at all the way it has been when Naomi listened to Emily's show before. A tendril of concern creeps up her back, and she fidgets where she sits.

Finally, Emily's voice drifts through the speakers. She sounds as though she has a cold, but Naomi didn't see any sign of that when they spoke that morning. Could she have been crying? Naomi is concerned, but nothing about what Emily is saying suggests that there is a problem. Emily is perfectly professional on the face of it, almost too much so. Eventually Naomi realizes that what is bugging her is the way that Emily's voice lacks the warmth and connection to her audience that Naomi has heard on previous nights. She seems distracted, or maybe disengaged. Naomi has to believe that it's because of her, because of the meeting that they had that morning and the one they will have the next. And she's not at all sure how she feels about that. She knows for sure that Emily was upset earlier, that much was pretty fucking obvious, and frankly Naomi can't help feeling a little bit of satisfaction that this whole thing has Emily so off-balance. But on the other hand, she has always hated to see Emily upset. And she doubts very much that will ever change.

Eventually, Naomi's tiredness overtakes her despite her interest in listening to Emily, and she reluctantly heads back to bed, both eager for and dreading the morning to come. She is fast asleep by the time Emily finally signs off the air and shifts her focus to her post-show reports and prep for the next night.

It has been the most difficult show of Emily's life. She has never been so nervous before, even when she made her very first on-air appearance. But she couldn't shake the idea that Naomi could be out there, listening, and that thought, coupled with her mounting stress about the morning just completely fucked her up.

She was alright when she first arrived at the studio. A little wired, and a little distracted by the exchange with Naomi and the ones with Katie and Effy before that, but overall fine. And then she sat down in front of the microphone and froze. She absolutely fucking froze, completely unable to string a sentence together. There were a few seconds of dead air off the top as she tried to get herself together, before she finally went straight to music. It wasn't a panic attack, what she was feeling, not quite. But it was still paralyzing. She couldn't think of what to say because she kept imaging how each possible comment would be received and interpreted by Naomi if she was listening.

Everything she started to say seemed so loaded. If she acted happy would Naomi think she wasn't taking this seriously? If she sounded unaffected would Naomi think she didn't care? If she sounded sad would Naomi think she was going the "poor me" route? What if she said she liked a song and it turned out to have some lyrics about a breakup? It went on and on, with these panicked thoughts rushing through her mind at light speed. It was fucking awful and before she knew it, Emily was struggling to hold back tears. She was so overwhelmed with concern about how her words and tone could be misinterpreted that she was effectively rendered mute, paralyzed by the thought that she might inadvertently inflict more pain on the woman who might be listening. And that, coupled with the thought of just how different this moment could have been if Emily had never left, if she and Naomi were still together, just tore the heart right out of her. Thankfully, she was able to cue up a long sequence of tunes to give herself a little time to regroup, thanking her stars the whole time that she produced the night-shift herself so that there was no one in the studio to see her falling apart.

She eventually stopped crying about a half hour into the show, and forced herself to dry her eyes and blow her nose and try to clear her throat so that it wouldn't be completely obvious to every listener that she had been sobbing her heart out. By the time she was ready to go on air again, she had figured out an approach to the necessary patter – straight intros or extros for the songs, with no personal commentary or insights added in - just the name of the song, the artist and occasionally the album title and no more. She threw in the time and the weather and a mention or two of the other shows that would air the next day, and talked up the idiotic prize game the station was running. But she kept herself out of it completely. It wasn't a perfect plan or even a terribly good one, but she got through the show. It was rough and uninteresting and she'll probably hear about it from her boss if she is unlucky enough that he had tuned in, but she got through it. And at this point, that is the best she could hope for.

It's almost 7:15 a.m. by the time she's finished all her work, so she decides to head straight to the bridge. She'll be early even if she walks there, but she hopes that the exercise and fresh air will do her some good and help her burn off some of her anxious energy. She is completely lost in her head, bombarded by a riot of memories of her time with Naomi, and the truly bad times after. She is so preoccupied and tense that she doesn't really notice anyone or anything during her walk. At one point she rouses enough to realize just how tired she is from the emotional turmoil and she considers stopping to pick up a coffee. But she is quite literally nervous enough to puke so she decides not to risk it. She is so fucking jumpy that she can't stop shaking, every cell screaming with hope that maybe, just maybe, Naomi won't come and she won't have to do this today. Maybe she'll get a reprieve. And then she flips to feeling just as terrified that Naomi won't come, that she'll decide that Emily isn't worth the time and effort. It's exhausting and disquieting and really fucking draining.

When she first glimpses the wooden foot bridge in the distance between the trees it's a relief, but at the same time knowing that she's so close to seeing Naomi again brings home just how very much not ready for this she is. She's not even close to emotionally prepared; her meltdown last night and her state right now make that pretty clear. But the little voice in her head keeps telling her that she owes this to Naomi and she has to come through, she has to find a way to do this. It's fucking annoying how much that voice is starting to sound like Katie, because let's face it, Katie has never been the poster child for empathy and consideration. Still, Emily knows that leaving at this point would be beyond unforgivable and so she gathers all her courage and will-power and she stays. She leans, collapses really, against the bridge railing when she arrives, getting lost in the motion of the fast-moving river. It's about 3 metres across, no more, but the water is running high. She tries to find calm and solace in the sound and sight of the water scrabbling over the rocks, but today its usual magic is lacking and it doesn't have the soothing effect that it normally does.

Compelled to move by the pent-up energy that she cannot contain, Emily shifts around so that she can lean her back against the rail. As she does, she glimpses Naomi in the distance, approaching up the walkway in a sharp blue business suit and matching pea coat. The sight steals her breath as her eyes rake over the woman, taking in every detail. She is so fucking beautiful it hurts. Emily can't help but wonder if Naomi always looks so put together these days, or if she made a special effort that morning. Either way, Emily's heart leaps at the sight of her, racing just that little bit faster in response just as it always did, before the fear settles back in. She wishes, for an instant, that she had taken more care with her own appearance rather than coming in her standard work garb of jeans, chucks, jumper and jacket, as though that was important, as though it would make the slightest bit of difference.

When Naomi gets closer, Emily notices the signs of fatigue and anxiety that criss-cross the young barrister's face - the black circles under her eyes, and the telltale lines between her brows that have always telegraphed when Naomi is not getting enough sleep. Emily is left feeling desperately uneasy again, and more than a little ashamed as the real import and reason for this meeting – the very many way that Emily has hurt Naomi, intentionally or not - slams back into her consciousness once more.

"Hi." Naomi's greeting is hesitant, which in a strange way makes Emily feel better. At least she is not the only one feeling so awkward and uncertain. But also makes her feel a million times worse for causing it.

"Hi."

The silence that follows is uncomfortable, not at all what they are used to. It is weighted and nervous and tense. It feels almost like the earliest days back in college, back before they found a way to love each other. Naomi is struggling to hold onto her equilibrium. She can't help but respond to being so close to Emily once more and that is unsettling as hell given all that has transpired between them. It sparks her anger again, setting it to bubbling away, just barely staying within the fragile scope of her control. The woman in front of her caused her extraordinary pain, and a sense of loss that is only underscored by this renewed proximity. It is difficult, very difficult, not to just give in and start yelling. As a result, Naomi doesn't speak at all, instead she looks at Emily, trying to glean some hint from her appearance as to why they are here, now, in this place. Eventually Emily can't take the silence or the scrutiny any longer and the words just sputter out of her.

"I want to start by saying I'm sorry, Naomi. That's not enough, I know, not nearly enough. But I am. I am truly sorry."

She dares to look up from under her fringe at the woman who held her heart for so long, who still does, but the eyes that she connects with are not what she remembers. They are not warm or welcoming. Naomi is shielding herself, protecting herself from Emily. She is standing there with her arms crossed in front of her, literally covering her heart, and that cuts the twin deeper than she could have imagined. Emily drops her eyes at the sight, and her own heart clenches as the reality of just how much damage she has inflicted on this woman that she cares so much about strikes home with a vengeance. She used to be the one Naomi trusted, the one Naomi felt safe with. And now, she is very likely the one Naomi trusts least of all. Emily can't blame her, not at all, but fuck it hurts.

"For what, exactly?"

Naomi's question is delivered quietly, calmly. But the emotion that drives it is anything but calm, Emily can tell. There is a ton of heartache and heartbreak behind the words, and a fear, so much fear, that the answer won't be what she needs to hear.

You would think that Emily would be better prepared for this question. It's an obvious one. And yet, she's not prepared, not for any of this, and she struggles to keep hold of her emotions under Naomi's scrutiny.

"For how I left. For eveerything I said before I left."

Naomi considers the response, nodding her head and digging her foot into the grounds as she does.

"Huh. Not because you left? You're not sorry for that?"

Naomi's voice is still eerily composed, but a slight waver betrays the true scope of her emotions and it hits Emily like a kick to the gut. She rushes to try to fix it.

"That's not what I meant. Not at all. Of course I… fuck. I just… There's so much more to that… That's a much longer conversation, Naomi. You have to understand, there's a lot that you don't know."

"And whose fucking fault would that be, Emily?"

Naomi's illusion of calm is shattered as the bitterness that she has been holding in breaks free. Her blue eyes flash with hurt and her voice cracks with anger.

"Mine! It's my fault, Naomi. I know that."

Hearing those words, and seeing the truth of them shine through on Emily's face, helps Naomi regain some control of her emotions. She takes a deep, cleansing breath before barking out, "Good. So what are you going to do about it?"

Emily searches for a way to tell Naomi about everything that she experienced, all the difficulties that she faced in trying to deal with her depression, but she is again struck by the fact that she doesn't have any idea how to begin. Still, Naomi is standing in front of her waiting for answers so Emily gives the best one that she can manage right then.

"I promise that I will answer your questions, as many as you want to ask. And I will explain everything. I promise I will. But I need to ask you to let me do that in my own time. Please. It… it's not easy for me to talk about it, that time. It's so fucking complicated and messed up. And… I will tell you. I want to tell you, I do. All of it. But can it not be today? I'm just so exhausted and so off-balance and so fucking scared, Naomi, and I just know that if I try to talk about it today I'll fuck it all up and make it worse."

Emily tries to swallow the sobs that are threatening to overtake her. She hates that she can't control her reactions any more. She hates that she still gets this fucking upset. She tries to focus on her breathing the way she was taught, deep breaths in an out until she captures back some semblance of composure. Finally, when she can talk, she tries again.

"I know I hurt you, Naomi. And there's no excuse for that. There is an explanation, maybe. Partly anyway. But there is no excuse, and I know that now. I am sorry, Naomi. I truly am."

Naomi is struggling to fight down her own tears as she watches her ex fall apart in front of her. She doesn't want that. She doesn't want either one of them to feel more pain. But it seems that there is no way to avoid it. She can't just let this go, so whether it hurts Emily or not she knows that she needs to push forward. She takes a careful step towards Emily, feeling a compulsion to close at least some of the gap between them.

"I want to know why, Emily. I want to know why you blew my world into pieces without so much as a fucking good-bye. You owe me that much, I think."

Emily sees the tears on Naomi's face, and hears the pain and the sense of betrayal behind her words. She nods her head in agreement, trying to convey that she really does understand where Naomi is coming from and that she knows Naomi has a right to ask.

"I know." She can't stop the tears that are streaming down her face. This is so fucking hard, facing Naomi, facing how much she hurt her, to know that this person she loves has been through so much pain and loss because of her, because of the choices she made. The regret and the guilt are overwhelming, and along with the sense of shame that she still can't shake about her depression they are making it fucking impossible for her to cope with this moment.

"I will tell you, Naomi, everything. I promise. But, it is not a simple story or a short one, and it… I just need to figure out how to talk about it. I haven't… I've never… Fuck. I don't know how to do that, Naomi. With anyone, let alone you."

Naomi's frustration flares again at those words. It feels like Emily is trying to run again, to avoid telling Naomi what she wants to know. One part of her wants to just shake Emily until she stops evading. But another part – the part that has been watching closely as Emily spoke - can't help but see how uncertain and shaky she is. Naomi can see that Emily really is a mess over this. She isn't faking it. She can't make eye contact, she's twitchy and unsure in her movements, and she has been crying almost since Naomi first arrived. Naomi can see how distraught Emily is, and despite how irritated it makes her to be faced with not getting answers once again, she can't help but feel Emily tug at her, triggering all the protective instincts that have lain dormant for so long.

On top of that, Naomi has spent enough time interviewing and preparing fragile witnesses to recognize that there is really no point in pushing Emily on this right now. She'll more than likely just fall even apart even more, which won't help either of them. So, despite wanting to know everything right away, Naomi's logical brain and her aching, wounded heart combine to convince her to give Emily some time to collect herself, knowing that will ultimately improve her chances of getting to the truth. In all honestly, in a way she's kind of relieved, and maybe even a little pleased, to see Emily so upset. Naomi knows that isn't kind, it isn't right, but fucking hell at least it means that maybe Emily gives a shit about what she did and how it hurt her. And maybe it means that she really does regret what she did, too. At least Naomi hopes that's what it means. She doesn't want to see Emily in pain, but fuck she wants to know that what they had once meant something to her.

"Okay."

The look of relief and thanks that Emily gives her makes Naomi glad that she agreed. No matter how pissed off the gets, Naomi can't seem to help but want to shelter Emily even now.

"I'll call you, okay?" Emily's voice is shaking as she speaks, and she fumbles in her pockets for a tissue to wipe the flood of tears from her face.

Naomi considers that. But she can see how hesitant and scared Emily is, which makes her not want to leave the timing of the next meeting up to her. So, Naomi suggests something else

"How about we meet tomorrow night before your shift? We can maybe take this in steps after that, a meeting every couple of days for a little while, until we've talked about… well, everything we need to talk about."

Emily is frightened by the idea, but she can understand why Naomi wants something concrete, and so she agrees. Naomi knows just the place for them to meet - Casey and Sue's bakery.

"Okay. There's a little shop I know. It's small and quiet. The owners are great, and they'll leave us alone so we can talk in peace. The coffee is decent and there is hardly anyone there after business hours, so we'll likely have the place almost to ourselves. I'll text you the address, okay. Will 7 p.m. work for you?"

Emily signals her agreement with a nod of her head. Naomi says, "Okay, good," and starts to move away to head to work. She actually exhales in a fleeting sense of relief now that this first meeting is over and she has finally managed to speak with Emily. It didn't go exactly as planned, but it is a start. She is almost to the end of the bridge and looking forward to a respite from the stress of waiting that has been weighing on her for so many days when the nagging feeling that Emily isn't okay starts nudging at her again. She stops, torn between moving on with getting through her own day and making sure that Emily will be alright. It's fucking ridiculous, and more than a little annoying, but she can't help but turn back, the seemingly inevitable tie between them tugging against her once again.

"Are you alright, Emily? It's just… Are you okay to get home?"

She watches Emily smile sadly and takes a breath before answering.

"I'll be fine. Thank you. This is just… I don't know… hard. It's just really hard."

Naomi looks down at her feet for a moment, struck by the emptiness in Emily's eyes and voice.

When she looks up again, it is to say, "I know. It's hard for me, too."

She turns away again, and tosses a gentle, "I'll see you tomorrow" over her shoulder before heading down the path towards the nearest tube station, trying to hold herself together until she is out of Emily's sight, until she can let go the tangle of emotions that are besetting her without worrying about being seen. She has no fucking idea how the hell she's going to manage to get through this work day now. No fucking idea at all.

Emily watches her go with tears still streaming down her face once more. She knew that it would be painful to face what she has done to this woman she loves. But it is worse, far worse, than she had imagined to see that pain face to face. She stays on the bridge, listening to the water roll by until her tears stop. And as she waits, she begins to realize that the buzzing anxiety and concern that had been overwhelming her before Naomi arrived is gone. She knows now that Naomi will give her room to tell the story in her own way, and that she genuinely wants to hear what Emily has to say. The relief that knowledge brings is tremendous. But she also knows that the bone-deep fear that Naomi will never forgive her is just as strong as ever. Emily was right to worry about seeing her again. Because now that she has… now that she has seen Naomi and spoken with her without running, now that she has looked into those familiar blue eyes again without all her defenses and barriers firmly locked in place, now that she has let herself hope for something better, something more, Emily knows without question that it will absolutely fucking destroy her if she has to let Naomi go.

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~o0o~

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In case you can't tell, this is going to be a slow re-building process. There is a lot of complicated emotional shit to work through for both of them, and it's the kind of stuff doesn't get resolved overnight. Stick with me, though. I think you'll like where it goes. In the meantime, let me know what you think. The magic button is just down there.